The Tower and the Hive

by MCCAFFREY, ANNE

  Alcibaca and one of the executives had the good sense to call in their position and airlift the hunting party out—all of them. The one who had fired without checking with him was served with a lifetime ban at that preserve. Vagrian had been interviewed by a T-4 and the outcome was sufficient to alter the course of his life. His one regret for the precipitous way in which he was ’ported to Blundell for further assessment was that he hadn’t been able to persuade Alcibaca to accompany him. She had expressed gratitude to him for saving her life in a time-honored fashion and she was his sole regret in leaving Altair for Earth.

  seven

  Laria’s delight in having her sisters come was sufficient for her to be the one to open their personnel carrier in the dawn cool of Clarf. She hugged them both, introduced them and their ’Dinis to those doing the yard duty.

  All of a sudden, Morag pulled out of her sister’s embrace and, her jaw working in astonishment, pointed skyward. “What’s sparkling up there? Or is it my imagination?” She squinted toward the distant but visible shining point. “Or do you have a morning star I didn’t know about?”

  “Oh, that,” Laria said dismissively, without bothering to look up. “That’s a Hiver sphere!”

  Kaltia’s eyes widened with some apprehension as she too peered at the sparkling spot.

  “It’s empty, though occasionally Mrdinis go up to prowl around for the fun of it,” Laria said. “That’s the one Captain Klml brought back as a trophy for its color. Then every other ’Dini world had to hijack one to maintain the honor of their colors.”

  Morag, eyes still on the sphere hanging like a malignant metal moon in the morning sky, shook her head. “Thing still looks dangerous.” Then she wiped the beads of perspiration that the relative cool of very early morning oozed out of her pores.

  “Wouldn’t think that would have bothered you, Morag,” Laria said, somewhat concerned.

  “It’s not the sphere that made me break out in sweat. It’s what you call climate here.”

  “Why, it’s cool right now,” Laria replied.

  “You call this cool?” Morag demanded.

  “All is relative,” Laria said, grinning. “You’ll gradually get acclimated and I don’t expect you’ll want to go out much at first, but the Tower’s set to Iota temperatures. Don’t worry about the duffels. The ’Dinis’ll bring them in.”

  Laria paused only long enough to ‘port the personnel carrier into the storage shed, where its interior wouldn’t heat up when the full sun appeared. Then she turned both girls, who were still staring up at the sphere, firmly toward the Tower as eight ’Dinis argued over who was to carry which duffel.

  EACH OF YOU GRAB ONE END. THEN CART THEM TO ROOMS THREE AND FOUR, WILL YOU PLEASE? Laria told them so she could introduce her sisters to her Tower crew.

  “You know Kincaid, of course,” she said, “Lionasha here is our expediter and Vanteer our engineer. And that’s all of us, bar the ’Dinis. We’ve got four off in hibernation—mine . and Kincaid’s—but they’re about due to come home.”

  Lionasha hugged both girls, Van treated them to a bow and a kiss on their hands, grinning mischievously when Morag gave him a mock scowl and Kaltia pretended to swoon at such courtesy. Standing slightly to one side of the others, Kincaid appeared uncertain as to what form his greeting should take, but Morag dragged him down by the shoulder and kissed his cheek, laughing at his startled expression.

  “Missed you hunting with us, Kincaid,” she said, winking at him.

  Kaltia, less the hoyden, extended her hand, and when he took it, folded her other hand over for a closer contact. She grinned up at him.

  “My sister hasn’t worked you to death then...”

  “Not yet,” Kincaid replied with a mock grimace. “But your presence will make my demise much less likely. I couldn’t believe it when Laria said your mother had relented.”

  “I thought it was Grandfather’s idea,” Morag said, looking from Kincaid to Laria..

  “His idea, but Mother had to agree to parting with you,” Laria said, linking an arm about their shoulders and hugging them into her. “Oh, but it’s good to have family here. Now, are you hungry or do you want to settle in? You may, once you’ve got accustomed to Clarf, wish to take an apartment together in the Human Compound because there’s a lot more going on there than here. I’ve asked for another ground car since I know”—she cocked a finger at Morag—“that Dad passed you for driving years before he let me solo.”

  “Had to,” Morag said with a grin.

  “We can settle in later. We came here to work,” Kaltia said, rubbing her hands together with a roll of her eyes.

  “You will,” Lionasha said, gesturing to the load of disks. “We’ve some heavy drone freighters to go...”

  “Ah, piffle,” said Morag, with a toss of her heavy dark hair, the silvered lock that was the family’s trademark falling neatly down the center of her tresses. “We’ve done big-daddy ore drones until it’s second nature.”

  “Why else do you think you’re here?” Vanteer remarked dryly, but he was grinning at the ebullience of the sisters, which had lightened the semigloom that had emanated from Laria since she’d ’ported the unwanted T-2 back to Blundell. Surprised as he had been at Laria’s precipitous removal of Yoshuk’s brother, he had been intensely grateful. Vanteer had just a touch of prescience in his Talent, and warning ripples had gone down his spine the moment the man entered the Tower. Morag and Kaltia, by their very presence, eagerness to work and delight in being able to help their sister, had dispelled the last of that unpleasantness. He knew that Kincaid had visited the Lyon home on Iota Aurigae, and both girls were obviously glad to renew the acquaintance. The nebulous worries that he recently sensed in the Tower dissipated in the giggles of two more Lyons. “Is there anyone left at home?” he added.

  “Sure, Ewain and Petra,” Kaltia said, and dismissed them with a wave. “But they’re still too young, so Grandfather sent in a strong kinetic T-2 to help Mother and Dad.”

  “Really?” Kincaid said, to break a stunned silence, since all the adults in the Tower had a good idea just who that T-2 could be.

  “We had to leave but he’s supposed to have more than enough heft for the big daddies. And Mom and Dad will break him in property.”

  “Yes,” Laria said, an odd look on her face, “I’m sure that they will.”

  Lionasha suddenly started sorting disks, Vanteer retreated to the generators, and if Morag caught some undercurrent, Laria quickly urged them to follow her to their quarters.

  “We won’t really have much time before the Tower’s busy, but as near as I can remember, you’d’ve left home at about nine-thirty?”

  “On the nose, sis, or do we have to call you Prime?” Kaltia said.

  “Have you ever called Mother Prime?” Laria retorted, chuckling.

  “Only Grandmother,” Morag said pertly.

  “Oh, but I am glad to have you here!” Laria repeated.

  “And we’re glad to be allowed out,” Morag said, “but that sun is incredible!”

  They all heard the unmistakable sound of generators turning over and speeding up.

  “I don’t think you’ll have more than time to look into your rooms,” Laria said, sliding open a door on one side of the hall and pointing to the one just opposite it. “See which one your duffels are in, wash your faces or whatever, but come on back to the Tower. Today’ll be so easy.”

  And it was, despite six hefty drones loaded with machinery and spare parts, two large passenger vehicles and the usual incoming shower of message tubes. That caused Morag the most astonishment.

  “It’s raining tubes out there,” she cried, watching the canisters falling into and all around the cradle.

  “We could use something else,” Kaltia said. “Like a big round bin. They’re too short to land in a cradle and too many to stack neatly.”

  Bins are a great idea, Lionasha said. Why couldn’t we think of that?

  Because we’ve been too busy catching, L
aria said with a note of exasperation.

  New brooms sweep clean, Kincaid said, grinning at the girls.

  Or a ramp to slide them into a big enough enclosure so it doesn’t matter how many come in at once, Morag suggested, projecting the image of such a device.

  Roll ’em in line like bowls in an alley, Vanteer said. Good notion. Let’s get the ’Dinis on it. They’ll know where to get the stuff we’d need.

  And we thought the mining companies got lots of messages! Morag exclaimed, remaining in the Mind Merge but, at the same time ’porting loose message tubes into an orderly pile. How long’s this been going on?

  Since Talavera, Laria said. We’ve one more crate ... Easy does it! It’s fragile.

  The crate, the machinery inside it visible through the slats of its carrier, landed without so much as a bump.

  What’s the waybill on that, Lio? Kincaid asked.

  A return to the FCR Works at Fl. Malfunction. Needs recalibration.

  Well, let’s put it in the shed, out of the way, then, until FCR tells us it’s ready to receive it, Laria said. They’ll have to reschedule to take on repair work.

  “That’s the lot for the morning,” Lionasha said. “Be right up.”

  Morag stretched, arms above her head, toes pointing out, and Kaltia turned on her side and assumed a brief fetal position—each relaxing in a different fashion. Kincaid looked casually over at Laria. As deftly as he could as the next in line to Laria in the Mind Merge, he’d drawn more heavily on the vibrant young strength of the girls, knowing they’d have enough experience to ease some of the burden that fell to the Prime.

  She turned her head slowly toward him and cocked her finger at him, letting him know that she was well aware of what he’d been doing. She was not, apparently, going to reprimand him.

  “That was good work, kids,” she said as she heard Lionasha coming up the steps with the restorative beverages.

  Kaltia took a long swallow, her eyes widening with pleasure at the taste. “Hey, where does this come from?”

  “The ever tropical planet of Clarf,” Laria said. “There are some advantages to it and this is one of the nicest ways to drink replacement electrolytes. Of course, the ’Dinis prefer lemonade, but they’re not shifting tons about.”

  “Do they grow citrus fruits on Clarf now?” Morag asked, licking her lips to be sure she’d got all the liquid.

  “A varietal grows here but it’s Earth lemonade they adore,” Laria said. “Now, we all take a siesta at this time of day, especially newcomers.”

  “Why? We haven’t been outside or anything,” Morag said.

  “I’m conserving your energies for the afternoon session, which can be heavier,” Laria said, swinging her legs to the side of her couch before she finished her drink. “Besides, you should get settled into your rooms.”

  Sliding from their couches, the girls went down the steps, where Morag halted, eyes widening at the stacks on Lionasha’s desk.

  “Hey, I can help with that. I used to do it on Iota and you’ve far too many. May I?” she said, already finding a chair to draw up to the littered desk.

  “I really would appreciate the help. It’s all those tubes!” The word came out with an emphasis short of resignation.

  “Vanteer? Do you think we could rig some sort of a ramp to channel the tubes into stacks?” Kaltia said, stepping down into engineering as he began to drop generator power to idle.

  He handed her a stylus and a pad. “Go to it, gal.”

  “That’s what this Tower has needed,” Kincaid remarked, offering a hand to Laria. “Young eager blood! A transfusion for us weary weight lifters.”

  “I’ve these sorted, Lio,” Morag was saying. “Now how do I contact the recipients?”

  “That”—Lionasha took the pile from Morag—“is where our ’Dinis assist. Here’s another set. Fraggit, but I’m glad you read ’Dini that fast. I still have to puzzle. Fig, Sil, Nim and Dig...” She beckoned the ’Dinis over. “As soon as you’ve got these done, you can show Kev, Su, Dar and Sim how we arrange them for collection. Then you may take the girls’ ’Dinis out for a look round.”

  GOOD, GOOD. WE DO FAST. Fig, who was organizing things in the absence of Tip and Nil, handed out the sorted files. The experienced ’Dinis picked up com units from the rack, and as they dialed the appropriate numbers, explained to the newcomers how distribution was handled. Fig was as good as its boast, and within half the time it usually took, thanks to Morag’s deft help with Lionasha, the ’Dinis went out of the Tower to rack the message tubes where they could be collected.

  WE’RE DONE, WE’RE DONE. WE GO. BACK LATER, Sil announced, opening the door just wide enough to lean its head inside and deliver the message.

  “Wow,” exclaimed Lionasha, looking with deep relief at the clear workspace. “No wonder Lyons are the Primes of choice,” she added, grinning at Morag.

  “Well, we’re still learning, you know,” Morag said, with such modesty that Laria, overhearing, laughed. “Honest, sis. There’s a lot more in such a busy Tower as Clarf than there ever was at home, for all the big daddies we had to heave.”

  “What do you think about a setup like this, Laria?” Vanteer asked, showing both the Prime and Kincaid the sketch pad. “This’d be easier to construct...” The stylus tapped the third drawing. “But this might be more efficient. And dead easy to put up. Could have one done by morning, I think. I know Lvlr can get us the materials and have them here by dark. Might even get it to give us the benefit of its expertise. Lev’s done some bits and pieces for us before now.”

  “Then you’ll keep us?” Morag asked, eyes round and mocking.

  “You just bet we will!” Laria and Lionasha chorused, and they all burst out laughing.

  Your report and the materials collected on the surface are still being analyzed, Jeff told Thian on the Washington. His mental chuckle echoed in his grandson’s mind. I am reliably led to believe by no less a personage than High Councillor Gktmglnt that the planet you’ve so adroitly investigated is completely atypical of the Hiver colonies and has confounded all the Mrdini experts. Ours as well, despite the fact that we may not have had as much experience with the species as the ’Dinis.

  What’s the gist, Grandfather? The xenbees here will want details.

  When such are formulated, a copious report will be sent. Right now confusion reigns. One: your Hivers do not appear to have sent out any spheres, since you say there has been little use of the available ore deposits and the sphere they used to arrive there is deteriorating. Two: the queens are a third smaller than our specimen at Heinlein Base. Three: eighty installations on a planet that size are unusually few, since Xh-33 had ten times that many and, to judge by the age of their oldest sphere—fragments have been analyzed—Xh- 33 is a much younger settlement. Four: the inactive workers you found in the stable, holding place, whatever, are also much smaller than usual. Five: according to Mrdinis, Hivers always send off excess queens.

  If there are no excess queens?

  Aye, there’s the rub, Thian. There should be and there aren ’t. Yet that colony is by far the oldest, judging by the analysis of the sphere fragments—it should have sent off colonies in keeping with the currently understood Hiver patterns.

  So, what do you wish us to do now?

  Check your findings by infiltrating at least ten of the other queen Hives and get more GC readings. The pheromones you got from the one queen’s quarters are not at all what emanates from the Heinlein queen. Get us more soil samples from as many cultivated fields as possible near existing Hives for cross-checking. And as a treat, snag us samples of the various worker types. If, as you’ve discovered, they’re dormant or resting or whatever it is that keeps them immobile until needed, that shouldn’t be difficult or expose a team to queenly retribution. It would, however, be very interesting if the queens did respond in some fashion to ... ah ... losing some of their working types.

  Thian couldn’t help but chuckle at his grandfather’s droll tone.
/>   “Let us in on the joke, will you, Thian?” Admiral Ashiant asked dryly.

  When Thian recited exactly what his grandfather had reported, Ashiant guffawed. “Well, frankly, I don’t see that we’d have any trouble absconding with a few specimens.”

  The experts want several of each from different installations, Jeff Raven said, having been able to hear the Admiral’s response through the link with his grandson.

  “Don’t want much, do they?” Ashiant said with a sniff. “I suppose the experts’ll want some of the queens’ attendants too, for comparison’s sake.”

  Yes indeed. But not if it puts teams at risk.

  “I shouldn’t indulge myself with whimsical remarks in your presence,” Ashiant said.

  Who’s to know what risk is involved until we try it, Grandfather? Thian also vocalized that query. We will neutralize the smell of us, though, since odor does seem to get through their chitinous skulls.

  Inform the Admiral that’s a splendid idea, to get queens’ attendants too, was Earth Prime’s response. And might prove a salient factor in figuring out this atypical situation. Thian obeyed.

  “Humph,” said Ashiant, looking pleased. “It is an oddity, to be sure, but how that can help us reduce the threat of Hivers in general is beyond me. We’ll still need to identify any, and every, planet they occupy and somehow render them unable to colonize.”

  Inform the Admiral that I could wish his view was more widely held. Again Thian relayed the message.

  “Are the militant still asking for species annihilation?” Ashiant asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in dismay.

  With growing fervor. The High Council remains unanimously in favor of some solution that does not. The militant annihilationists refuse to be pacified by planetary containment and insist that the queens would only find some other way to “terrorize occupied space.” Odd that you, Admiral, are more of a pacifist.